Just Being a Friend
by Konstantinsen
Summary: Just before Elizabeta succumbs to the darkness, she glimpses the concerned rubies of a familiar face. One-shot


**NOTE: Hungary is one of my favorite characters in Hetalia. I can't help pairing her up with a lot of the other male countries. Anyway, this is a one-shot of the aftermath of the Hungarian Revolution of 1956. I was too lazy to study the history of what really happened but I couldn't get this idea off of my mind. I sincerely apologize if ever I offended anyone with this.**

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><p>The darkness was fading. She could feel her body now. And they hurt like hell. What happened anyway? Her back hurt, her arms hurt, her legs hurt, her whole body hurt. What the hell happened to her?<p>

She could see the sky. A gray sky. She felt so damp and sticky in many areas. Everything began to clear now and she tried to move.

"Quit squirming, would you?" a voice ordered.

She looked up. She had a hard time believing what she was seeing—actually, what she was experiencing. And she couldn't help but smile.

He didn't look at her. He just kept his gaze on the tent up ahead. He wasn't even smiling; the egotistical idiot seemed to be rather discomforted by what he was doing. But he still did it anyway. And she couldn't put her finger on why. The whole reality of it was unbelievable to her and almost any observer.

"Hey…" she managed before a spasm of pain struck her side.

Prussia didn't answer.

"Hey…" she called out again. She tried to move to get his attention but the state of her limbs was not suitable even for a wave. She felt so weak and helpless. The more so in his arms. The more so with her right hand over his shoulder. The more so with her head leaning against his chest. But instead of being angry with herself—for having failed, for having not been able to free her people—she was satisfied. Content, perhaps. Possibly happy that _he_ was helping her out.

She didn't even expect his aid. She actually envisioned him taunting her and laughing his ass off at how badly beat up she was. That reminded her of the time when he found her in the bush following the battles with the Ottoman Empire. And he still thought she was a boy. Until he saw her chest. Things changed a lot since then.

They weren't little nations anymore. They were more developed countries with modern weapons and equipment. They weren't small and young and playing swords and sticks. They didn't wear armor plating or mail hauberks anymore. They weren't best friends anymore. Were they?

"Prussia…"

He continued to ignore her. Now that was starting to annoy her.

"Hey… Gil?"

That caught his attention. Gilbert Beilschmidt stopped and looked at her. It didn't bother how heavy she was to him. It's as if he didn't even care. The glory of gloating over her had been overcome by (_pity_) concern. He didn't want to acknowledge it even though he didn't know what it really was that came over him. "What?"

"What… happened?"

For a moment, Prussia couldn't say anything. "You… uh, you were… "

"I was?"

"Russia did a really good number on you," he said flatly. "I could've done it myself because of my sheer…" The word escaped his mouth. He cursed himself. It had never happened before. Not like this.

"Yeah… you're sheer awesomeness."

Gilbert was taken aback by what Elizabeta had just said. "Thanks…" He blushed. She beamed all the more.

"Uh, look… you really look like shit. And, uh… there's a nearby camp where they could treat you."

"Why don't you rip off your trousers instead?" she teased.

"Shut up." His arms ached with carrying her but he didn't want to drop her considering she suffered a much worse treatment at the hands of Russia than of the Ottoman Empire. The difference between Ivan and Sadiq was that the former was a psychopath. Despite the many skirmishes with the Turk, Russia's treatment was just as bad even with modern weaponry.

Gilbert commanded his feet to move and they obeyed despite how stressful this was becoming. "Uh, by the way…"

"Yeah?"

"What you did… "

"Huh?"

"Standing up to Russia… even though you know how dangerous he can be."

"Is that what I did?"

"Yeah… " Prussia sighed. He didn't feel like gloating today after seeing how Ivan used that faucet pipe. "You were… awesome."

Elizabeta couldn't even say anything from that point on. She blacked out. Again. As much as he wanted to kick Russia's ass for what he did to her, he just couldn't do it. Along the way, he couldn't help but look at her bruised face, her (_fragile_) head resting against his chest, the blood running down her mouth, her least-battered arm over his shoulder, her crimson stained uniform. She just looked so (_breakable_) helpless. _Damn it! You're too awesome for this._

But her spirit was strong. Her resiliency was great. He saw that a lot especially when she kicked his ass because of the wars with Austria.

What would that aristocrat do anyway when he saw what happened to her? He'd probably scurry off like a pussy. No. He probably would've done the same thing.

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><p>Hungary regained consciousness inside the tent. Prussia was about to exit when she called out to him. "Hey, Gil…"<p>

"Yeah?"

"Thanks… "

She was sure pride kept him from acknowledging her gratitude. But they both knew that he was just trying to be someone his pride kept him to be. And it was very awkward.

However, considering the circumstances, he was her closest ally. The Iron Curtain separated them from the rest of the world. Anyone who wanted to see the other Soviet states had to go through Russia first. She felt like a harlot in a harem.

That was probably one of the many reasons she rose up against Ivan. Not only was she tired of the false paradise, the hardships and cruelty of the authorities, the problems that plagued her people. She wanted to rip through the Curtain. She wanted to see Austria and Germany. She wanted to talk to them, to hug them, to kiss them. She wanted to reconnect to the outside.

She did it not only for the Hungarian people but also for the other Soviet states. She wanted to give them hope—the Baltic Trio, Poland, Ukraine, Belarus (_she still wants independence, right?_), and everyone else. Prussia also needed to reconnect with his brother. Lately, the two haven't been going along well. Ludwig and Gilbert were beginning to claw at each others throats. Austria was trying to pacify them as much as he could.

But Prussia. She expected someone—anyone—aside from him to pick her up. Lithuania, or maybe Austria or Germany (_breaking through the Curtain to my rescue_). Who knows? She could have started a war with what she did.

She watched her childhood friend leave the tent and disappear into the distance. She smiled as she slipped into unconsciousness once again.

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><p><strong>NOTE: Again, if there is anyone who has been offended by this, I sincerely apologize. This is just an idea that came to my mind and I couldn't help but write it down and upload it. Also, comments would be very appreciative.<strong>


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